


Countess Phantomhive

by Idonquixote



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Relationships, F/F, F/M, I sincerely ship this, Written as stress relief, and also because this is my second favorite f/f ship in kuro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:10:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8193214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idonquixote/pseuds/Idonquixote
Summary: "Let me clarify one thing: her Majesty did not hate the Countess. She never did." An account of the Queen and her Watchdog, as told through the eyes of John Brown.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I acknowledge that this will probably not be canon or will be outright disproven (or will it?) but I wrote it anyway. Took some liberties with Claudia's character (and her husband's) but it'll probably be another 84 years before we meet her in canon so I worked with what I could.

My name is John Brown. Who I am is not important. What I am is not important. I serve Queen and Country. My introduction ends here.

Her name was Claudia, Countess of Phantomhive, and I know not where to begin with her story. Countess Phantomhive, how should I describe you? Her hair always sat atop her head in loose curls, not quite straight, but bundled in waves, a color of teal so light it was almost blue. She was a petite woman, ghostly pale, as haughty as a beautiful dame could be. But Claudia Phantomhive was not cold. For all her arrogance, for her distance, for her sharp tongue, the Countess was a warm woman. When she had good things to say, you could be assured she meant every word. She was the sun after storm, the peace in the waves. Her only flaw was not having been born a man. To maintain what was hers, she had to work twice as hard as any man for half the recognition. This was Claudia Phantomhive, the queen of the underground, our invisible magistrate, the Watchdog of the Queen.

Let me clarify one thing: her Majesty did not hate the Countess. She never did. 

She always had a fascination for the Watchdog. That was all there was. Fascination. Simple. Clean. An innocent curiosity with the smallest glimpse of good will. In Phantomhive, I suppose she saw a piece of herself- vulnerable, alone, an iron will within. They were like parallel lines, and in their growth, she wanted Phantomhive to succeed. I will not slander her Majesty, but I will not shy from the truth. Queen Victoria was not a saint. This, you may know. Then it should not surprise you to know that the Countess was, for lack of better word, cut from the same cloth.

Together, they stood over hidden dirt, clean gloves joined, hiding the blood underneath. I stood behind them, as I always have.

You should also know that her Majesty changed after Prince Albert's death. Not one for socializing, she became more withdrawn after the tragedy. She wept until no more tears would come, until sun set and sun up, for she loved him. There it is again- simple, clean. She loved him. There is no other word to describe what was between her Majesty and the Prince Consort. He was her, and she him, and in the wake of his death, a piece of her soul had left with him. But what of that which remained?

Phantomhive must have known the answer. She was, in every sense of the word, a knight of the Queen. And perhaps she saw in my Queen that same vulnerability her Majesty saw in the Countess so many years ago. Phantomhive never paid me much attention, save the minimum respect, but the same could not be said of me. I remember the way she looked at her Majesty. It was the way her Majesty had looked at Prince Albert's corpse. And in that instance, I knew, Claudia Phantomhive's heart had broken for her Queen. 

From that day forth, the Countess came around the Palace whenever she could. She would mostly come alone, but sometimes she brought her son, eleven years old and the splitting image of his mother. She never brought her daughter. He would squirm and torment me as his mother sat with her Majesty for tea. Young Vincent Phantomhive, I wish I had the chance to ask you- do you remember those afternoons? We played at fencing and he took special delight in poking my shins. If memory serves me correctly, he once clung to me during a thunderstorm. I held his little head and whispered soothing words.

The English rains had been fanatical that day, so much so that the road was too dangerous to travel under. The Countess and her son stayed the night, and as I rocked Vincent back and forth in my arms until he had fallen asleep, her Majesty's doors remained closed. Phantomhive's room was empty. Her Majesty used to be terrified of storms in her youth, or so she told me, and I wondered if that old habit had come back. Perhaps the Countess was doing the same as I was then- holding the Queen in her arms.

She never spoke of that night to me. Indeed, her Majesty and the Countess were not present. It had been Victoria and Claudia.

That was the first of many moments between them. They enjoyed one another's company in the way that lovers-to-be would. I had been in her Majesty's room many times since then, and the ruffled pillows and spread sheets said it all. I shall not slander either of them. Here is the truth: what happened between them was simple. They embraced and lay by each other's side. Nothing more. And nothing less.

Phantomhive had a husband. He was a noble man, not by birth but by nature. Like his wife, he was a man with few friends. Those of lower breeding have mocked him for allowing his own emasculation. But it was the very opposite- he had been honored to be the spouse of Claudia Phantomhive, to be the father of her children, to take her name. Even in his dying breath, he held no regret. His name was Cedric, a dear friend of mine, and as shortlived as he was, I would never doubt that he loved the Countess. 

He was a willing pawn of hers, and I believe she knew. Phantomhive loved her husband as much as a spouse could. But it was a passive love, one of obligation and respect, no different than the love she felt for her dearest chambermaids. I remember her saying once, in her Majesty's ear, "I love men very much. But there is a woman I love far more." I cannot say whether or not it was a lie, but I can say that what the Countess felt for her Majesty was true, perhaps truer than she had ever felt for anyone.

Her Majesty was another matter. She loved quietly and she expected emotions to be pampered like skin. She once called Vincent a beautiful boy. She had been speaking to his mother- as I have said, Vincent was created in Claudia's image. That was how my Queen went about this affair. 

In the end, as you know, the Countess's life ended in tragedy. Let me end any misconceptions now. It had nothing to do with what went on between her and the Queen. It was an incident like any incident, an incident that could have just as easily killed Phantomhive's father as it did her son. And as I said before, Claudia and Victoria were cut from the same cloth.

The Countess understood her Majesty like no other. And though Claudia Phantomhive remains an enigma to me, she never was to her Majesty. For her, the Countess had been Claudia, the sun after storm, snow in summer, flesh not phantom.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/kudos are always welcome.
> 
> I'm one of the few people not ready to believe Cedric is Undertaker just yet, so he's written as a different person here. As for UT himself, he's not mentioned in Brown's memories (because Brown doesn't care lol) because he'd just be there to get rejected by Claudia. 
> 
> Also, this is the AU Victoria from Kuro, *not* the historical Victoria.


End file.
